


Evidence

by ghostrunner



Category: The Following
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:04:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1343482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostrunner/pseuds/ghostrunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>possessiveness</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evidence

Jacob's still shaking, still on the verge of tears. 

"Tell us what you need," and Emma kisses him quiet, tips him back into the bulwark of Paul's chest. "Tell us what you want."

"I want you to hold me down," Jacob's fingers are cold under her shirt. "I want you to take me apart," and Paul's mouth on his neck becomes teeth, becomes blood rising to the surface, becomes Jacob arching back, laying himself open for them. 

Paul leaves bite marks everywhere he can put his teeth. Wraps his hands around Jacob's wrists and holds him, Jacob struggling not because he wants to get away, but because he wants to feel Paul trapping him, wants Paul's fingers bruised into his skin for days. Emma rises over him on her knees and leans across to kiss Paul over his shoulder. The sound of their mouths together, Paul's familiar stubble scraping over Emma's skin. 

Jacob smiles, feeling his lip split and bleed where Emma bit him. 

"Something funny?" 

Paul shifts behind him and he knows every inch of that body. Memorized it in the dark of their bedroom telling themselves it was a secret and they could never have this. 

"Just nice to see you two getting along."

They take him at his word; they hold him down, Paul pinning his arms while Emma rides him like he's a car she stole. Every touch becomes a grip that will leave marks, every kiss has teeth. He won't be able to walk tomorrow and he relishes the thought. 

If he died right now, if Paul held him down and Emma opened his throat with a chef's knife and he pumped his life blood all over the sheets, all over Paul and Emma and, god, they'd probably fuck covered in his blood but, if he died right now the police would find Paul and Emma all over him. Bite marks and skin under his nails and bruises that match Paul's hands and DNA in the sweat he's slick with. 

"Fuck," he sighs, shivery with sensation. 

"Was that a request, baby?" and Emma doesn't wait for an answer, tugs him up onto his knees and down onto his elbows, Paul's hands sliding in the sweat along his spine and he groans at the first push, curves his back and Paul bottoms out in three strokes and stills for a moment. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck he missed this. 

Emma whimpers, her hands painfully tight in his hair, and he hears the slick, wet sound of a kiss. Jacob rocks a little, pinned and impaled and aching and Paul rewards him with a slap that sends lightning through his nervous system and a thrust. 

Jacob tilts his head to the side so he can breathe, so Emma can wrap her fingers around his throat and keep him from breathing, and watches his blood drip onto the sheets as Paul pounds into him. 

He belongs.


End file.
